Happiness is an extremely uneventful subject
He forces her to her knees, the sun clearly setting in the direction she is facing. The only light Clarke has managed to see in several hours threatens to blind her, even in the captivity of her hood. As it is removed, she is almost thankful to see the face of the one who has demanded she be brought all this way. Finally the Commander of Death will be allowed to embrace the death she so deserves. Now, without her hood, the setting sun is absolutely blinding. Clarke can only make out the silhouette of a throne and a small figure seated there. Mouth gagged and abrasions covering her face, she struggles to adjust to the brightness. She can just barely make out a female figure when she hears her voice. The voice that has haunted her day and night for months. Gentle with Omega undertones yet fully in command as her title would imply. Two words. Two words are all it takes to awaken Clarke’s inner alpha. All the rage she has been working on suppressing for all these months surges forward, just beneath the surface. She holds it back, just barely, because this can’t be true. Lexa cannot be standing in front of her. Lexa cannot have the audacity to speak to her. Not after everything. Not now.
Hello Clark.
